


Maybe Next Time

by noodlecatposts



Series: ACOTAR Tumblr Requests [3]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, First Date, First Kiss, Modern AU, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-19 15:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22513375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodlecatposts/pseuds/noodlecatposts
Summary: Feyre and Rhys have their first date.Tumblr Kiss-Prompts: 8. Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other’s hand & 14. A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron & Rhysand, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Series: ACOTAR Tumblr Requests [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612852
Comments: 4
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

Feyre blushes madly as Rhys presses a kiss to the back of her hand. He smiles from behind her hand, lips lingering against her skin and allowing Feyre to feel the curve of his lips. She has to duck her head, look away from those burning, violet eyes before she can do something stupid like tug him down for a real kiss.

It’s their first date—one of many to come if Feyre has anything to say about it.

They’d met through mutual friends. Mor and Feyre were roommates, and Cassian was her favorite person to exchange insults with over coffee. Azriel was her study buddy, calming her nerves when test time became too much. He’d already graduated; they all had. Except for Feyre, late the party, delayed by life’s fickle game.

None of them judged her for it. In fact, they helped her, lifted her up at every opportunity. Her most recent test hung on the fridge, pinned there by Mor, with magnets covered with their faces.

 _I’m the proudest mom ever_. Feyre’s roommate told her.

“I hate to say this,” Rhys begins, bringing Feyre’s attention back to those sparkling eyes, deeper and more beautiful than the Sidra. She’s nervous. She doesn’t know why. “But I think we should head back. It’s freezing out here, and you’re starting to turn blue.”

“So eager to be rid of me already?”

His eyes shine with mirth. “Tempting, but I think I’d like to keep you around longer.”

Feyre laughs, releasing some of the tension from her body. She was nervous that he’d say yes.

Rhys’s smile is feline, “Worried, I’d changed my mind?”

She blushes deeply, caught in her insecurities. Rhys’s eyes soften, and he tugs her close, releasing her hand at last. Only to wrap his arm around her shoulders and tuck her into his side. Feyre leans in happily. Savors his warmth.

“Let’s get you home, darling.”

They walk back to her apartment in comfortable silence. Rhys hums a tune under his breath, and Feyre works at committing every moment of this evening to memory. He presses a kiss to Feyre’s temple, and she smiles shyly at him. This is all very different than their usual encounters: exhilarating banter and flirting over insults.

Feyre was so surprised when Rhys finally asked her out, more shocked by how readily she told him yes.

When they reach Feyre’s apartment, Rhys catches the door and holds it open for her. She rolls her eyes at him fondly, and he leads her up the stairs. At the apartment door, they linger. Feyre bites her lip and watches Rhys shyly; his eyes glimmer as he leans against the opposite wall, smiling.

“Mor isn’t here.” An invitation. Tentative. She can’t meet his eye when she says it, but Feyre can feel his smile.

Feyre rolled her eyes at her roommate earlier, when the text came through that she was going to stay the night with the guys. The implications were bold, and Feyre told her she was presumptuous. Now, she’s thankful.

Rhys looks a little surprised by her words, and she flushes.

“Maybe next time,” he tells her, leaning into her space.

She feels very silly for suggesting he come in. Still, before Feyre can mutter some apology and flee inside her apartment, Rhys brushes the back of his knuckle across her cheek, swipes across her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, and wipes her insecurities from her mind.

Feyre sucks in air at the contact, feeling a little dizzy by the nearness of his warmth, the smell of him. Her reaction is all the affirmation Rhys needs to press his lips against her. She meets him eagerly, leans into his space, and wraps her hand into his hair to pull him close.

With a hum, Rhys’s own hands drop from her neck, leaving a trail of flame in their wake as they travel down her body to settle underneath her coat and onto her waist,

Their first kiss isn’t one of those embraces that starts slow and sweet, like embers waiting for kindle. It’s the strike to a match, pouring gasoline on a fire. It’s months of teasing and flirting and unsolved tension.

Feyre moans into the kiss as her back makes contact with her front door. The sound has them breaking for air at last, and Rhys presses his forehead to hers while they catch their breath.

Rhys has to clear his throat before he can speak. It makes her feel a little better to know he’s just as wrecked by their kiss. “Have a goodnight, Feyre.”

Feyre’s breath stutters at the rough timbre of his voice, but he only presses another kiss to the corner of her mouth before releasing her. A promise.

“Night,” she echoes, and Rhys smiles that smile of his, eyes filled with heat and hunger.

He waits for her to get out her keys to unlock the door with trembling hands. Only once she’s safely inside, does Feyre chance a peek through the hole in the door. She catches sight of Rhys still outside with his head ducked low, a silly smile on his lips. He runs a hand through his hair, messing the meticulous style, and then with a shake of his head, Rhys leaves. She’s sorry to see him go.

She can’t sleep afterward. Sits around the house restless but happy. So, Feyre sketches that image, that stolen glimpse through the door. Her smile a mirror image of what she draws.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1\. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.  
> 2\. Wild, breathless kisses brought on by a heartfelt gift.  
> 3\. "Ew. Get away from me. No– not you. You stay."

Planning Rhys's birthday part is perhaps the most challenging undertaking of Feyre's life.

For one, the man is everywhere. She wishes he would just go away—except not really. Feyre loves having him around all of the time. He's her best friend, and his being her boyfriend is really just an added bonus. It means kissing and cuddling.

"Rhys knows you're up to something," her roommate tells her one afternoon when Feyre gets back to the apartment after school. Morrigan has been terribly unhelpful during this process. As Rhys's cousin, Mor is just as much a blabbermouth as the guest of honor. It's a wonder she didn't spill the beans when Rhys asked what was going on. Feyre tells her as much.

Mor huffs. "Please, I like how nervous it's making him. Like, Rhys thinks you're going to dump him or something."

"Why are you always so mean to—he what?" Feyre squeaks. Rhys can't think she's going to break up with him; Feyre would never do that.

And yet, that sounds exactly like something Rhys would be nervous about.

"You heard me," Mor's expression is unimpressed. "My cousin thinks he's about to get his heartbroken, and he's sent me to test the waters."

"I'm not breaking up with him!" Feyre huffs. "I'm trying to plan a surprise party for him!"

"And I know that," the blonde tells her, flipping her hair over one shoulder. "But Rhys does not. And you have been pretty... twitchy when he's around lately."

Feyre groans. Guilty as charged. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep secrets from the person you tell everything?"

Her roommate's eyes turn soft. "It'll be fine, Feyre. The party is tomorrow, and then Rhys can put all his fears behind him."

"I guess so," Feyre agrees, unconvinced.

\--

"Quickly now, idiots," Amren coos as she clears the front door. Feyre isn't sure why she assigned such a critical task to Amren, but it was far too late to change things now. "The boy is on his way upstairs with the wine."

Morrigan cackles as Cassian and Azriel each bolt for a hiding space. Cassian nearly takes out the armchair when he vaults over it, and Azriel disappears behind the curtains, becoming nothing more than a shadow.

"You made him carry the wine up to his own party?" Feyre cries, reaching for the light switch. The room goes black, and Feyre tucks herself behind a couch with Morrigan.

Amren's voice fills the darkness, undisguised irritation marring her tone. "Well, I certainly wasn't about to lug it all the way up here. Besides, this way, I can see the look on the kid's face when he realizes he's not getting dumped."

Cassian barks a laugh and Azriel snickers from his hiding place behind the curtains. Mor hisses when Feyre elbows her, interrupting the blonde's giggles.

"I hate all of you."

They wait in silence. Rhys's muffled cursing is the first sign of life on the other side of the door. Her boyfriend curses under his breath, and she bites her lip when Rhys calls through the door, kicking a foot against it lightly.

"Any of you alcoholics want to help a man with the door?"

Amren snorts. Knowing her, the woman is likely perched in her favorite chair, waiting for the frivolity to end so she can start drinking.

"Anybody?" Another thump against the door.

It takes a little while, and a few more curses, but eventually, the door opens. Amren must have bought a lot of wine.

"Uh, hello?" Rhys calls into the room. Feyre listens to the scuffle of the box as it hits the floor, and then her boyfriend hits the lights. "Where the fuck did you guys—"

_"SURPRISE!"_

Rhys's face goes ashen when his family launches out of their respective hiding places, screaming at him. Amren is, as Feyre guessed, sitting in her chair, picking at her nails. She glares at the commotion, standing and fetching the giant crate of wine from the ground; Amren ferries it away to the kitchen without acknowledging the guest of honor. Figures.

Feyre skips up to him with a grin; when Rhys's eyes meet hers, they light up in delight.

"Happy birthday!" She tells him with a kiss.

Rhys laughs and wraps his arms around her. The rest of the group is quick to join their embrace. Mor wedges herself between the couple, and Azriel wraps his arms around the three of them. Cassian's long arms envelop them next.

"Ew. Get away from me," Rhys cries out, laughter in his voice. He halfheartedly shoves his brothers and cousin away from him. Feyre releases him as well, giving him the requested space, but Rhys tugs her back in quickly, tucking her underneath his chin with a smile. "No– not you. You stay."

Feyre giggles, squeezing him back tightly.

"Did you do all of this?" Rhys asks, speaking into her hair. Feyre nods without releasing him. Her boyfriend leans back, taking her chin in his hand to meet her eye.

"Thank you, darling." Those violet eyes sparkle with affection. Feyre lifts up onto her toes to kiss him, and Rhys is quick to respond eagerly, deepening the kiss, and threading his fingers in her hair.

"Ew!" Morrigan complains. "Get a room!"

They break at last with a smile, and Rhys tucks her back into his arms, saying, "It's my birthday party. I get to do whatever I want."

"Yeah, especially Feyre," Cassian wiggles his brows, and Azriel punches him.

\--

"I hear someone thought I was going to break up with them," Feyre teases later, wine in hand. Her legs are draped over Rhys's lap; they've curled up together in the loveseat, watching fondly as their friends get into trouble in Rhys's honor. The party has mostly died down by now. Morrigan and Amren are sharing a story in the kitchen, and Azriel and Cassian don't look like they won't be conscious much longer.

To Feyre's delight, Rhys blushes. He ducks his head to hide it, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Uh, I—had my concerns."

Feyre reaches out to brush back his hair and look into his eyes. "Ye of little faith."

Rhys snorts, "Sorry, milady. However, can I make it up to you?"

Feyre grins. "Kiss me."

Rhys's eyes are bright when he tugs her closer to him by her legs; Feyre squeals as he lifts her into his lap to kiss her. The kiss is long and sweet, and Rhys smiles as he brushes her hair back to look at her.

"Happy birthday," Feyre whispers. She's said it a million times already, but his actual birthday isn't even until later next week. She'll have more opportunities to do so.

"Thank you," Rhys tells her, pressing another kiss to her lips. "Best birthday party ever."


End file.
